


Of Bets & Winnings

by tommysmutnothingbut



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Dom! Tommy Shelby, Dom/sub, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-10-03 04:54:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17277455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tommysmutnothingbut/pseuds/tommysmutnothingbut
Summary: essentially 6,000 words of straight filth, very little context or plausible sense, did not think about this very much before I posted it, dub-con (***dubious consent: consent is unknown or not certain***) , Guys Being Dudes™,  Daddy kink, plot that probably would never happen but let’s pretend, rough and unforgiving sex that the lighter of heart may not enjoy, a bad father, series 4 spoilers





	1. Chapter 1

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you grumbled, meandering your way across your flat to the door and wishing you were asleep. Swinging it open you found none other than Thomas Shelby.

“Mr. Shelby?”

“Tommy, please. Can I come in?”

After a moment of your dumb silence brought upon by his light-eyed gaze you nodded and stepped aside, ushering him into your cozy flat and praying everything was alright, for the face of the devil was never one you wanted at your door.

Tommy wasn’t a stranger, at least not completely. Everyone knew about the Shelby’s, not even just in the camps but anywhere else word could reach. You knew your father had taken up arms to help since the mafia had come for them, an arrangement your brother Bonnie had assured you was under control, even if you didn’t always believe him.

Vague memories of playing with Ada when you were little were warm and sunny in your mind - better days: before the war, when you were still travelling, when your mother was still alive - the Shelby’s mother, too. You remembered the brothers as well, none of them ever paying much mind to you, but at least they’d never been mean.

“Can I help you?” you asked in confusion, taking in Tommy looking around your flat casually before he turned to you and scanned your body. The look in his eyes inspired you to draw your robe a little tighter, Tommy’s lips twitching upward in a smug response.

“I never thought Aberama to be much of a gambler so I’m quite surprised he took this bet.”

Brows knit in concern, you asked “What’s he done? Where is he?”

“He’s fine, love. Don’t worry.”

“Alright,” you continued warily, “then what’s going on?”

“Well,” Tommy started, lighting a cigarette and taking his coat off, your brows raising, “he made himself a little bet. And lost.”

Now you were bothered, Tommy’s tone turning your blood to ice. Stepping closer to Tommy you ignored the cigarette he held out to you. “What have you done? Take me to him.”

“Like I said,” Tommy tilted his head, sliding your unwanted cigarette back into his engraved case. “He’s fine. And I’ve won, that’s what I’ve done.”

“You’re in my house,” you snapped, “tell me what’s going on or I’ll scream bloody murder.”

There was a smile in Tommy’s eyes but barely on his lips, turning away from you to look around your flat once more, slower this time.

“Your father’s pretension came for my uncle’s yard, Miss Gold. And I couldn’t have that. So we made a bet.”

You stayed silent, waiting.

“Unfortunately, the cost of his loss happens to be you.”

A misunderstanding that held a cold edge settled in your stomach, your mouth hanging open stupidly.

“What? I don’t understand.”

“Yeah, you see -” Tommy nodded, eyeing your phonograph and tapping his ashes into an empty wine glass you’d left on your windowsill, the soot soaking up the last drop of burgundy, “ - the odds I offered were that if he lost, I’d have you. Confident in his luck, your dad.”

You stared at Tommy in disbelief, from the top of his clean-cut head to the fullness of his bottom lip, your own lips unable to form words. It wasn’t clear what had stolen your ability to speak: your father’s stupidity and carelessness, or Tommy’s sudden sensuality, the light upon it having been turned on whether you liked it or not. Shifting your weight, you attempted to stomp out the thoughts that began to creep in, the absurdity of the situation no reason against your body’s own answer.

“Do you consent?” he continued, not giving you barely a moment to gather your thoughts as if it was nothing more than business, squinting down at the cigarette he was rubbing out in a nearly spent candle on your table. He had shrugged his suit jacket off and was standing before you in just his vest, sliding his hands in his pockets as he brought his attention back to you, expectant.

Handsome as he was, his callousness still raised your brows. “What if I don’t?”

“I don’t force women against their will.”

“Came all the way here assuming I’d say yes, then?” you countered, stepping closer to him in annoyance, jutting your chin out. “What of your bet?”

“Oh no, love,” Tommy squinted, shaking his head, “honoring this bet is up to you now, wouldn’t you say?”

“No thanks to you,” you replied easily, still in awe of his cockiness. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

Tommy shrugged casually. “Like I said, I don’t force women.”

“Do you even remember my name?”

Scoffing, Tommy answered with seriousness crossing his sculpted features, “Of course I do.”

Shutting your eyes, you rubbed circles into your temples, circles mimicking both the conversation you were having with Tommy and the thoughts spinning in your mind.

“What if I say no?” you asked again, gasping slightly when you opened your eyes to find Tommy a step closer, the scent of his cologne warm as it swirled in with the crisp scent of soap on his skin.

“Do you want to say no?”

Ignoring his very important question, you stalled, voice shaky and transparent. “I haven’t seen you in years, Tommy.”

“Wrong, you know that love. See you at the Garrison off and on. Think I didn’t notice you? I know you’ve noticed me.”

“Confident, aren’t you?” You smiled sweetly, “Thought you were chasing after my older sister, Esmeralda. Didn’t want her for this particular bet? Saving her for the next one?” you snipped, the jealousy in your words surprising you but not fazing Tommy.

“No,” Tommy said simply. Another step closer, lips upturned. “I want you.”

Another step and your back hit the wall in finality. Shame washed over you; Tommy had been in your flat for less than ten minutes and he already had you up against a wall, and not entirely unwillingly. As if reading your mind, Tommy took your chin and tilted it up wards as he took one last step, face devious and chest brushing up against you, muscles firm and warm under his shirt.

“Don’t worry about what your father would say, love. I think we both know the answer to that.”

“Fuck off,” you hissed under his chuckle, Tommy’s eyes roaming your body with more of a hunger now that he was close to you, fingers delicately pulling on the ribbon that held your robe shut before you slapped them away. Reflexes too slow, the silk of your robe parted to reveal your night slip, your nipples hard against the fabric, traitors. “Maybe I don’t want to fuck you.”

“Maybe,” Tommy shrugged, slyly slipping his hand behind your neck and holding his lips flush on yours, your breath catching, “but I don’t think that’s the truth.”

Without room for debate Tommy kissed you and you didn’t stop him, his lips moving softly against you before growing rougher, your tongue pushing at his, the taste of whiskey heady and warm in your mouth. Thoughts whirling, you let your tongues dance together, unsure of what was happening but not moving to halt it.

“Play nice,” he murmured condescendingly at your swear of alarm when his hand found its way under your nightdress. “Might have to do something about that dirty mouth of yours if you keep that up.”

A gasp left your lips at both his words and his touch, Tommy’s hands not waiting for permission before gripping one breast and then the other. Groaning in satisfaction, Tommy kissed you passionately before spinning you easily in his arms, pressing the front of you against the wall after tearing your robe from your body.

It had been so long, so long, since anyone had touched you like this, spoken to you like this. Any men that approached you were either dreadfully boring or full of false bravado - both unimpressive in equal measure. The idea of being with Thomas Shelby was one that had crossed your mind and then promptly left in embarrassment, the thought of it feeling impossible and silly when you watched him in the Garrison, and you had always made sure to look away before he could feel your gaze. But here he was, feeling like a dream and pulling your nightdress up while swearing gruffly under his breath. The dream began to feel real as it spread hotly beneath your skin; Thomas Shelby taking you because he had gambled for you, making you his to take. A sudden nervousness gripped you, tensing your muscles as it swirled in with the wanton shame.

“Tommy, we shouldn’t-”

Cool air slipped between your legs as Tommy pulled off your slip, his arm sliding around your torso to hold you to him securely.

“Didn’t ask what we should do, Miss Gold,” he whispered, running his hand over your ass and squeezing, pulling your chest from the wall to look down at your breasts, moving his hand to play with your nipples. “I asked what you want to do. Are you going to tell me your answer or do I need to find out for myself?”

Apparently his question was rhetorical, as Tommy slid his hand between your legs without waiting for a response. Unmoving, you did nothing but inhale sharply, Tommy dipping one finger into you to find the wetness there. Watching your eyes widen, Tommy slid his violence-roughened finger up and down victoriously until he was satisfied, pulling away with a chuckle. 

“That’s what I thought, princess. Now,” Tommy spun you back around, humming in your ear and holding you close, “I won a very lucky toss of the coin, and I think it’s about time I take my spoils, don’t you?

Once again Tommy didn’t wait for an answer, picking you up and crossing your flat in a few strides to throw you on the bed. Undressing quickly, his expensive clothes made piles on your floor as he watched you arrange yourself on your sheets, paralyzed and watching him reveal his bare skin. Marked with tattoos and scarred with consequences of the life he led, you found yourself thinking that he was perfect.

You’d heard enough confirmed stories of Shelby genetics that Tommy’s size didn’t surprise you, but it did make you swallow in uncertain anticipation. It also struck you that being Tommy’s plaything - especially if he was spiting your father, for you knew how men could get - wouldn’t be a gentle affair, and you subconsciously crawled backwards on your bed until Tommy seized your ankle, dragging you towards him as if you weighed nothing. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” he cooed, holding your thighs open and pressing a finger to your clit and smirking when you moaned, your body going slack. “Good girl. When you’re soaking then I’ll fuck you.”

The waves of pleasure wracking your body promised you that moment wasn’t far away and you whimpered, your bottom lip trembling as you looked down at Tommy’s muscled body over yours, watching his fingers deftly rub your clit as you panted in time with his rhythm.

Stopping much to your dismay, Tommy took your hands and pressed them into the bed, settling between your thighs and kissing your cheeks, “I’ll take good care of you, don’t worry.”

Tommy’s idea of care was entering without warning and thrusting into you roughly, a self-righteous smile coming onto his face at the sound you made in response. His size merciless, Tommy stretched you wide and you cried out in protest, a cry that furrowed his brows as he slid in and out of you, your infamous fiery streak not willing to be extinguished by his dominance.

Tommy reached up to squeeze your cheeks until your lips pouted at him and you scowled, trying to wrench your face out of his grip.

“Oh that won’t do; you’re mine. Do you understand? I can play this game all night, princess. I promise I’ll fuck that disobedience right out of you.”

Tommy smiled down at you as he spoke, a misleading softness that you knew was mocking, even if there was something akin to admiration in his eyes. You continued to try to writhe away from him, churning your hips against his cock to throw his rhythm off, forcing him away from the deepest spot inside of you.

“Suit yourself, Miss Gold. To think I was going to be nice to you. Maybe I’ll be nice when I’m done, if you’re still in one piece.”

“Fuck you,” you answered, glaring up at him.

Tommy’s face went dark but the smile stayed, sinister. Sliding out of you so quickly that you gasped at his sudden absence, you barely caught your breath before Tommy stood and dragged you to the edge of the bed; flipping you over, he bent you at the waist and dropped your feet to the floor. You scrabbled at the sheets and tried to pull away, Tommy just chuckling and pulling your hips upward until you were on the height of your toes, swearing in frustration.

Done with taking his time, Tommy pushed his cock into you completely, inhaling sharply, fingers digging into your hips. Eyes rolling, you cried out with each stroke he dosed you with, thrusts coming hard and fast.

Fisting his hand in your hair, Tommy pulled your chest off the bed and bit into the nape of your neck, reveling in your gasp with another dark smile against your skin. You felt your will beginning to bend, Tommy’s cock and his grip setting the chemistry that had already been swirling between you into flames.

The rumors you’d heard about the Shelby men weren’t just rumors after all so it seemed, at least not for Tommy, who fucked you relentlessly without any sign of slowing. Soon your bodies were slick with sweat, and Tommy threw your upper body back on the bed before pulling out of you, his hands releasing your hips. You shut your eyes and caught your breath, listening to him rustle around behind you as you lay in wait.

When he returned, Tommy wordlessly slid his belt under your hips and tightened it at your lower back until you gasped in pain, the leather biting into your skin. Sliding his fingers between it and you, Tommy used the belt as leverage to pull your hips backwards just as he thrusted his cock back inside of you.

Without shame or comfort Tommy resumed his fucking, more forcefully and savagely faster than before, unconcerned for your moans and cries of pleasure, for the fact that you were enjoying yourself was nothing more than a plus for him.

At one point you reached back in vain, trying to find someway to tell him to slow down since you were incapable of words. But Tommy merely seized your wrists and held them tightly in one hand, chiding you and raining hard slaps onto your ass until you found yourself inexplicably apologizing. The fact that Tommy had so quickly fucked you into compliance only made you want to come more, to please him more; your previous shame was now far from your mind.

“I’m sorry. Please stop, I’m sorry.” You moaned, trying to writhe away from his spanks and failing, your ass stinging in pain.

“Is that so? Let’s see how sorry you are.”

Tommy agilely released his belt from around your hips and tossed it to the floor. Pulling you up by your hair, he let go of your wrists only to wrap his hand around your throat, pushing you onto your knees before him, your head held fast in his grip. Lust pumped hot in your veins, and you were sure you’d never been so desirous of someone in your life.

“Open.”

Automatically you did so, never breaking your gaze from his.

“Good girl,” he whispered, jaw slack as he watched his cock disappear down your throat.

Gagging on the size of him, you widened your eyes in plea as Tommy shushed you, holding your jaw firm in his grip and beginning to slowly move in and out of your mouth.

“Shh, there you go. Perfect,” he murmured, watching himself, pulling out to rub the head of himself around your lips.

Taking the chance to close your lips while Tommy slid around them, you swallowed the spit that had gathered when your mouth had watered for him. Displeased, Tommy growled and slid his hand to your throat again, squatting down to where you knelt and squeezing until your mouth opened, gasping.

“Did I say to close it?”

Unable to breathe you shook your head, blinking slowly in apology. Tommy squinted at you and slipped his fingers into your open mouth, sliding them across your tongue, pulling at your cheeks, rubbing your lips. Wiping his hand across your face, smearing you with mascara and spit, he smirked and stood, releasing your throat and sliding his cock back into your now open mouth.

Tommy chuckled and you looked up at him eagerly. Brushing hair off of your damp forehead softly, his gentle touch and voice made you feel faint. “Do you like this, princess?”

Humming assent around his cock, you let your eyelids flutter and cheeks hollow in answer. You didn’t feel like yourself, on your knees with a smeared face, your pussy throbbing and dripping at the thought of Tommy making a mess of you; a man who you’d known but had barely met until tonight, a man who you were more than happy to let make a mess of you.

Swearing, Tommy pushed deeper into your mouth and walked forward until the back of your head hit the edge of the mattress. Scrambling between his legs, you squealed around him as he used his cock to push you against the bed, keeping his hand on the back of your head until it hit the mattress, shushing you roughly all the while.

“On your knees,” he commanded, watching you struggle to bend the bottoms of your legs underneath you again. “Much better.”

By the time you settled your breaths were coming heavy through your nose, your eyes wide as you looked up at Tommy, pinned still with his cock between your swollen lips.

Tommy began to fuck your mouth, your head helplessly held against the mattress. The glint in his eyes was victorious and you knew he was thinking about your father’s arrogance, and the anger that instantly sparked in your eyes at the thought was instinctual and transparent, your will rushing back strongly into your blood, stiffening you.

“Poor thing, don’t like being taken as a prize?” Tommy rasped, each syllable pulsing in your clit with an unwelcome ache. “Do you know how pretty you look, mm? Do you know how pretty you look when I’m fucking your little throat?”

You groaned around him and Tommy laughed darkly, stroking himself into your mouth as far as he could go and holding himself there, his hips flush to your face.

“So, so pretty,” he repeated, a sarcastic edge to his voice that didn’t help ebb your anger, and he pinched your nose shut in consequence to your venomous glare. “Choke, pretty girl. Choke for me.”

In vain you pushed against Tommy’s thighs, scratched at his hips, your stifled whimpers starting and stopping around his cock as you struggled, deprived. At the same time an orgasm began to stir and you could barely believe your own lust, your clit pulsing in anguish as you gagged and writhed on Tommy’s cock.

Only when you began to wriggle in dire need did Tommy release your nose and pull himself from your throat, letting you gasp in air and praising you. You coughed and sputtered, orgasm and defiance flourishing inside of you as you tried to keep your senses together.

Squatting to where you sat on your knees, Tommy watched you breathe and released your hair, letting your tired neck relax. Your head fell back gratefully onto the mattress and you stared up at the ceiling, breathing heavily.

Tommy hummed in appreciation and you shut your eyes with a sigh as he began to trace his fingertips across you, playing with one nipple then the other, pinching both and rolling them back and forth.

Mild disbelief still held you in its grip, all of this feeling like a dream. The sudden rush of oxygen cleared your thoughts and you felt a rush of anger - but not towards Tommy. Your father’s hubris knotted your stomach and reminded you why you’d left the camps for Birmingham in the first place: to get away from him. It wasn’t the time to think about it but you could barely help it, Tommy ravaging your body - even if you were enjoying it - because of your father’s selfishness.

All of this made you wish Tommy would stay forever - that this would never end so you didn’t have to think about anything else but the ache in your muscles, the fire between your legs, Tommy’s skin and his whispers.

“Come back to me, princess,” Tommy said, giving you a break from his roughness with his gentle tone, his fingertips still soft on your skin, watching you wander in understanding.

In attempt to bring you back to him one of Tommy’s hands found your closed thighs, dragging a finger up and down the line of where they met. To say it worked would have been an understatement, a quiet whine cracking from your lips and clouding your mind with a sad longing.

“Tommy-”

“I know, love. I know.”

Tommy didn’t force his hand between your legs and knew he didn’t need to, his gentle touch coaxing your thighs open, your body begging him to enter. Melting under his touch, your back arched and your hips rolled into him, your eyes still shut to the ceiling as Tommy’s hand began to trace patterns on your damp inner thighs.

“Tommy, please” you begged.

Ignoring you, Tommy leaned forward to kiss your exposed neck, sucking marks into your skin that no one who saw you would be able to miss.

“No marks, Tommy,” you breathed.

“Sorry little one,” Tommy said dismissively, waiting until he was done biting in a fresh bruise to answer you, “I always mark what’s mine.”

Just when you thought it had retreated, rebellion crashed through you again; you had at least expected Tommy to honor the fact that your employer wouldn’t appreciate a neck full of lovebites. You snapped your head up to scowl at him but Tommy’s hand was instantly there to meet your jaw, his grip painful with his fingers hard on the bone.

With his gaze dark and devilish, Tommy didn’t need words to convey that he was hedonistic with victory, adoration, and sin all at once. His icy eyes alone could have put you in your place if you had been more willing - tragically still your father’s daughter: stubborn until the end. The hand that had been playing with the inside of your things dragged two knuckles up your dripping slit and your rolling immediately resumed, betraying you. Wanton shame flooded your cheeks and Tommy’s face creased in a smile.

“Poor thing,” he murmured, holding you against the bed and leaning forward to kiss you, running his tongue along yours while continuing to rub your pussy gently, refusing to move past your soaking crease and give you what your body was begging for.

“What do you say?” he whispered against your trembling lips.

“Please, Tommy. Please.”

“Try again. Remember who you’re talking to, princess. I did win you, after all.”

With a brief confusion, you held his formidable stare and said, “Mr. Shelby.”

Tommy shook his head.

“Sir?”

“Getting warmer, little one.”

Realization made you groan in desire and complaint, the latter sending Tommy’s hand to your throat, squeezing lightly around it but growing tighter as he chided you.

“Tsk now, I don’t need to make you try and say it with my cock down your throat, do I?”

“No, Daddy,” you answered sheepishly.

Tommy’s pupils blew, black darkness pushing his beautiful arctic blue into slim rings. Holding his lips flush against yours he kissed your whimpers quiet, pushing past your folds to finally run his fingers up and down your soaking pussy. “Good girl.”

Your whole body ached and pulsed, Tommy’s skillful fingers thick and slow once he finally pushed inside. Swearing at the wetness that slicked his fingers, Tommy abandoned the bruises he had begun to suck into your breasts to watch his fingers fuck you.

A carnal mess, your hips ground against him of their own accord, Tommy holding himself still for some moments to let you do so, an arrogant smirk on his face. You didn’t care, his touch so intoxicating that you would do anything for it.

“T-…Daddy?”

“Mm?” Tommy answered, eyes still on his fingers.

“Do you promise to come back?”

Tommy’s head snapped up at your seriousness, even if it was said in a breathy moan. An endearing concern was in his eyes, and he brushed your cheek with the back of his hand briefly, scanning your face to make sure you weren’t wracked with more distress than he thought you could handle. When he found nothing but lust painted on your features he let the devil crawl back across his, leaning close to you and pulling you the rest of the way by your cheeks, beginning to pump his fingers hard and adding the pad of his thumb to your clit.

“I’m going to come and do this to you whenever I want. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you cried, voice shaking, “Fuck, I’m gonna come, Tommy.”

“Who?” Tommy hissed, cruelly speeding up his fingers. “And you don’t tell me. You ask me.”

“I’m sorry Daddy, I’m sorry. Can I please come, please?”

“No,” Tommy smiled, replacing the thumb on your clit with his dripping fingers and beginning to rub light circles against you.

“Fuck,” you whined, gritting your teeth. You didn’t want to know what would happen if you came without permission, and you sunk your head into Tommy’s neck as your chest heaved, panting into his skin.

“Daddy, please. I’ll do anything you want.”

“That’s a given, love.” Tommy said, voice smooth and low, the danger in it not helping you fight off your orgasm. He pulled your head out from his neck by your hair and looked into your eyes. “Say it again. Tell me.”

“I’ll do anything you want, Daddy. Anything-“ the last word was broken apart by a moan, Tommy rubbing your clit softly and cooing to you, appeased.

“You like this, don’t you? Look at you, messy and begging to cum for me. I can do whatever I want to you, you know that don’t you?”

Barely managing a nod, you stared at him half-lidded and painfully tensed against your orgasm, your small hands wrapping around Tommy’s bicep in attempt to hold onto the earth.

“That’s right. You’re my good girl. All mine. Come for me.”

Tommy had to shift you into his arms to keep you from falling to the floor, letting your chest lean against his as you fell forward. Not slowing his fingers, Tommy rubbed your orgasm out of you in blinding waves, your skin coming alive and running chills across you, coming harder than you ever had under Tommy’s capable and conquering touch. Tommy attempted to quiet your cries by pushing your head into his chest, your moans stifled into his skin as you rode out your lust in his arms.

When you calmed to his satisfaction Tommy kissed your hair quickly, picking you up by your neck until you were teetering on your toes, your body swaying under his hand.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you,” you breathed wispily.

“Thank you, what?” Tommy growled, quick to spank you hard and fast until you were done answering.

“Daddy, thank you Daddy.”

“And to think I just let you come,” Tommy mused, considering you. “We’ll deal with your forgetfulness next time. But for now, here is what Daddy is going to do, alright?”

Nodding, you sucked on the soaked fingers he slid between your lips and struggled to stay on your toes, shortage of oxygen making you woozy. Gravity began to run your cum down your thighs and it cooled on your legs, giving you the chills in more ways than one.

“Daddy is going to fuck you senseless, and then I’m going to come all over that pretty little face. Do you understand?”

When you didn’t answer, foolishly hesitating, Tommy resumed his spanks, spinning you around and roughly seizing your neck in the crook of his arm, your hands wrapping around his forearm in attempt to make him release.

“I don’t need to fuck your pussy in order to come, I can just fuck your throat, would you rather that? Mm? You don’t need to enjoy this, little brat.”

Shaking your head with fervor you leaned your head back to gaze up at him, pouting and lustful. “I’m sorry, Daddy, I-”

Cutting you off, Tommy hummed with a mocking sadness, smoothing the hair from your forehead, “You’re very good at saying that, I’m not sure how much you mean it. Tell me that you want Daddy to come on your face.”

Tommy merely watched you when you hesitated, rocking you back and forth within the crook of his elbow, waiting for the last of your submission.

“I want you to come on my face, Daddy,” you whispered, every bone in your body meaning your words.

“Say please.”

“Please.”

“Of course princess, whatever you want.” Tommy teased, running his thumb across your cheekbone before bending you back over the bed, his to take once more.

But it was different this time, Tommy pulling you close to him quicker than he had before, wrapping his arms around you and whispering filth in your ear. Holding you by the jaw he told you how good you felt, that you were his, as if you two had done this a thousand times before. In a way it felt like you had - the chemistry between you palpable and electric enough that you couldn’t believe you’d never felt it before, enough to make you regret having ever avoided his gaze in the Garrison.

Before long Tommy was panting hotly in your ear and you couldn’t help but smile at a man such as him being brought to a carnal weakness just from being inside of you. You wouldn’t dream of resisting him, letting him bend you and push you this way and that, Tommy using your pussy to make himself come.

When his undoing came for him Tommy pushed you roughly to your knees and held you by the hair, ordering your mouth open before he came upon your skin and onto your tongue wordlessly, his full lips parted. Stroking himself onto your face he groaned from deep in his chest, the image of you touching yourself while he came only prolonging Tommy’s orgasm ever further. You couldn’t help but rub your clit as he held you there, never looking away as the heat of him hit your skin.

When both of your hazes settled Tommy dropped down to you, his eyes not leaving yours even as he picked up your robe, using it to wipe your face carefully before gathering you up and laying you down on your sheets. Helping himself to your whiskey he poured you both a glass, and this time you took the cigarette he offered you.

“Are you off, then?” you asked, feeling unsure and small as you twirled the glass in your hands.

Tommy swiveled where he sat on the edge of your bed, looking at you as if realizing he forgot something. Stretching forward to set his glass on the table, not caring that his cigarette fell into the amber liquid with a sizzle, he came back to scoop you into his arms, holding you tight.

“I’m not leaving. I chose you because I wanted you,” he said, saying each word with emphasis. “This was more than a result of your father’s arrogance.”

“Right,” you snorted, “I’m not sure what he would have to say about that. I’m sure he knows exactly where you are right now.”

Tommy leaned back so he could see your face, the symbolism of the Romani sun tattooed on his chest resting heavy against your cheek. “Your father is helping to protect my family, and for that I’m grateful. But I also think he’s an ass.”

A laugh burst from you and Tommy smiled in response before he continued, shaking his head. “I called you mine all bloody night because I want you to be mine, eh? Would’ve come for you without your dad’s fuckin’ challenge for Charlie’s yard. Idiot. You deserve a better father than one who will go forward with you as collateral. Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” you nodded, answering quietly. You could tell Tommy didn’t believe you but he didn’t push forward tonight, playing with your hair instead and letting you carry on. “Is this always your idea of a first date?”

“No,” Tommy scoffed, leaning to the the floor to get his cigarettes before you stopped him to hand him yours, not wanting the entire thing to yourself. “I have plans for you, don’t worry. But I’m a man that gets what he wants, love.”

“I noticed.”

“Good,” Tommy murmured, “You’d do well to remember it. And hey - ” he leaned down to look at you again, the unreal blue of his eyes boring into you and his hand gently holding your chin “ - forget about your dad, yeah? I have some words for him. And you’re mine now. Alright?”

After a moment you nodded, nuzzling into Tommy’s neck and slowly falling asleep, wondering if you would wake up from this dream, Tommy’s gentle strokes against your back assuring you that you wouldn’t.


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dommy Tommy, unexpected guests, more smut than plot, quiet maids, unopened mail, shaking legs, cigarettes that are out of reach, unread books

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you all, thank you for reading and do let me know what you think! Happy sinning!

Only sparing a second to watch your horse trot off into the endless mossy green of Tommy’s fields, you were glad your four-legged companion wouldn’t have a problem finding grass to graze on. Poor boy deserved it after the long ride here - a long ride of listening to you practice multiple versions of your angry speech.

The length of Tommy’s driveway was quickly eaten up by your strides, and when you reached the oaken door, waiting beneath its lofty stone arches, you didn’t bother to knock. Only when you burst into the foyer did your brain catch up with your pace; the shiny cars that had lined the driveway could - and did - belong to people other than Tommy. Scratchy jazz and booming male laughter to your right made you jump with a quiet swear, men in various stages of grey sitting at Tommy’s heavy table in posh suits, clouds of cigar smoke enveloping their heads while they basked in their own importance as well as Tommy’s brandy supply, the remnants of dinner sitting on the fine china before them. You recognized the faces of the brothers and a few other Blinders but Tommy’s wasn’t amongst them - thankfully your father’s wasn’t either.

Feeling vulnerable in the open foyer, you took a step backwards and tried to think, Tommy’s guests now playing unannounced and unwelcome parts in your play, disintegrating your script. Yet they were forgotten completely when you finally looked around the manor you had stormed into, the sheer opulence of it parting your lips.

High ceilings and dark woods spread as far as your eye could see, and although you weren’t versed in artwork, you knew that what hung on the hunter-green walls wasn’t cheap. Polished vases and golden trinkets sat uselessly upon expensive furniture, serving no other purpose than to do just that, displayed adjacent to couches and chairs covered with silken cushions that you knew Tommy couldn’t have possibly picked himself.

But even amongst the candlesticks and the sculptures, the thick carpets and spotless mirrors, you saw Tommy here and there. He was woven into the pattern of the rug that had seen the life of a caravan before it had settled here, in the picture frames that were arranged not for display but for nostalgia’s sake, heard his voice in a hasty beckoning that had caused Charlie to leave his train on its side in the corner. The real parts of Tommy were what stuck out to you, it was everything else that didn’t fit. Still, you couldn’t help but feel out of place, realizing that the most haggard thing in this house by far had to be you - Tommy’s guests were dressed as well as, if not better than, the figures in his priceless paintings.

The reflection that wore plain skirts and muddy boots eyed you from one of Tommy’s gilded mirrors with a critical stare, startling slightly when Tommy’s maid made her presence known from where she appeared beyond the stairs. You ignored your reflection, instantly preferring the kind gaze of the woman who introduced herself as Frances. 

“Mr. Shelby is taking a telephone call,” she replied softly to your inquiry, taking your coat and looking over your shoulder at the drunken men in Tommy’s dining room, “But can I fetch you a cup of tea while you wait? Or something stronger, if you’d like.”

“No need, thank you,” you smiled, and with a nod Frances disappeared around the corner into a warmly-lit hallway.

Frances had the footsteps of a maid, near-silent on the deep carpet and removing all sense of her location, so you counted to ten before you darted past the hallway and around the corner into a sitting room, a room much like the last. The house was the definition of comfort, but you still couldn’t help but feeling as if something was missing as you moved through it, that the flames in Tommy’s marble fireplaces were the closest one would get to homely warmth in the entirety of his estate.

The change of scenery brought you back to center, reminding you why you came. A heavy looking door dominated the corner to your left, a slit of golden light shining out from beneath. Even if what lay within wasn’t what - who - you were looking for, you decided that barging in through another door was better than having to manipulate poor Frances into telling you where Tommy was.

Before you’d made it halfway there the door swung open, Tommy filling its frame, warm light from the office within outlining the breadth of his shoulders. Savoring the fact that Tommy hadn’t noticed you you watched him pause, the delicate flick of his lighter chiming in the dark before flame plumed out of it, golden warmth hitting every carefully carved angle of his face. It had been weeks, but he looked just as handsome as you remembered, and you could nearly feel his skin trailing beneath your fingertips.

A haze of smoke replaced the flame of Tommy’s lighter, and as soon as he straightened his eyes fell on you. A second of priceless surprise that you’d forever treasure being responsible for crossed his face, but didn’t last long, soon replaced by something that told you Tommy remembered exactly what had occured the last time you were in the same room.

Tommy had written, sent flowers, and had even rapped on your door in the late of night. Wide awake in bed, listening to his knocks mix in with the rain falling on your roof you had stayed silent, telling yourself you hadn’t known who’d been at the door, although every inch of you knew it was Tommy. Lust had begged you to answer the door, to write back, to call, but it was your lack of desire that had stopped you. Lack of desire to discuss exactly what you and Tommy meant to each other, what other women’s doors he knocked on at night, and just how much any of it had to do with your father.

So you’d let him knock softly at your door until he eventually left, and decided that staying away from Tommy was safe, reasonable, sound, and what you wanted. But the wanton creature you’d become with Tommy that night was a woman who would not be denied, and memories of Tommy’s visit stirred her awake at night, whispering in her ear and coaxing her touch to places his had been. Tommy knowing she existed was one person too many, and as he took you in now you were more than certain he recognized her, and could guess that she was merely waiting to be let out.

“Mr. Shelby,” Frances sputtered behind you, making you jump. “I’m sorry, I had her waiting for you, I-“

“S’alright, Frances,” Tommy replied smoothly, “I asked her to come in. I was just telling Miss Gold that my guests are soon leaving, and that she can wait upstairs while I bid my goodbyes.”

“And I was just telling Mr. Shelby,” you cut in, staring at Tommy blankly with your back to Frances, “that I’m here on business.

“My upstairs office -” Tommy said, pausing to drag on his cigarette, “ - is where I handle such business, and is where you can wait. Frances -”

“Down here will be fine, Frances, please.”

The wringing of Frances’ hands behind you was nearly audible, and her voice was shaky as she excused herself and retreated, “I-I’ll go get the coats ready,”

Tommy’s icy eyes watched her go before they came back to you, and if you didn’t need to speak with him you would have smacked the smirk off of his dishonestly angelic face, “You’re scaring my maid.”

Silence was your safest option, so you kept your lips together and shot Tommy a steely glare, waiting.

Tommy sighed heavily, moving from the doorway and holding his arm out wide with all the sarcasm he could muster, “After you, Miss Gold.”

Scowling, you brushed past him into the office, holding your breath as your bodies passed, exhaling when there was a safe distance between the two of you. With all resolve you would walk out of here with your wits, all of your clothing, and the answer you wanted to hear.

Tommy’s office was warm and smelled like him, soap and tobacco mixing in with both his smoke and the fire’s. Nothing adorned his shelves other than dark-leathered books, the inkwell and heavy ashtray on his desk covered by a mountain of papers, only the very tops of his picture frames sticking up above the mess. As comfortable as it was, the room was still unmistakably Tommy’s territory and no one else’s, and the feeling wasn’t doing you any service. Your fingers nervously fiddled with each other while you attempted to distract yourself, following the path of his mahogany shelves and reading the titles of the books that sat upon them, noting which ones had their leather spines cracked from use and which texts had collected dust.

“Drink?” Tommy asked, apparently delaying his goodbyes and heading for the decanters of liquor that waited for him on their brass trays.

“Please,” you nodded, letting your eyes drift from the books innocently, taking in the crimson curtains that hung on the tall window behind Tommy’s desk and high-backed chairs of leather that sat before it.

As much as you tried not to watch Tommy you couldn’t help but do so, forgetting how feline his movements were beneath his violence-carved frame. Having shed his jacket and his vest, his suspenders marked a neat y in the middle of the crisp linen of his shirt, the muscles beneath rippling smoothly.

“Some party,” you said, turning back to the books with a quick shake of your head, listening to the jazz music warbling in from the distant dining room.

“Not my idea of one,” Tommy muttered, the velvet hum of his voice suddenly very close. You whirled around, Tommy arching a brow at your skittishness, cigarette hanging from the corner of his lips. Trying not to look at him, you watched your hand take the glass from his calloused one, shifting your fingers so they wouldn’t meet his. Your felt his curious gaze but successfully ignored it, muttering your thanks and stepping away from him, pretending to warm your hands in the fire while Tommy settled into his chair. When you looked to him again his face was watching you more softly than you expected, the expression driving your drink to your lips.

All the things you wanted to say roiled in your stomach - you’d never responded to Tommy’s gentle words or his promises that night, hadn’t even answered his letters let alone the door when he’d come knocking. But it wasn’t the time for words unsaid, not while you were playing emissary for your family’s business - again. At least it was on your own terms this time.

After one more sip for bravery, you squared your shoulders and forced yourself to hold Tommy’s stare, speaking before he could. “I’m here about my brother.”

Like everyone else, Bonnie didn’t know for certain what had happened between you and Tommy, for you’d quickly discovered that Tommy made sure no talk had escaped the yard that day, lest tongues wanted to be cut out. No one from the edges of the camps to the pubs of Small Heath had so much as glanced in your direction…pointedly so. But Bonnie knew you better than most, easily noticing that something had changed, and his own hunch was all he’d needed. He had begged more than asked for your help, for your sway with Tommy. Bonnie’s dream to box would climb a ladder made of desperate measures as long as it lifted him to success, and even if Bonnie didn’t know why your help would tip the scales in his favor, you both knew that it would.

Bonnie had looked like a toddler again, wearing the same face of fixated enthusiasm he’d worn when he was two, wobbling after horses and toads alike, ignoring your calls to come back to the fires.

You can say no, he’d said, taller and chasing after fighting instead of bugs in the dirt, patting his mare’s neck while rain pattered lightly on the tin roof of the yard - a yard you’d secretly begun to refer to as yours.

I’ll sort something out. Just think Mr. Shelby would listen to you, is all.

It couldn’t be denied that Tommy had connections, the space for a ring, and an entire city that would lay their bets precisely how and where he told them to. But aside from your angry speech for Bonnie’s cause, the only true weapon in your arsenal that wasn’t of a carnal nature was the favor - the blood favor - that was owed; it was your family’s help that had kept Tommy’s own family alive. But no one wanted to pull that lever, for what soul would dare approach the devil to remind him of the debts he owed? Bonnie was asking in sake of his own ambitions, but you also knew he was asking for peace, for you to intervene before someone - your father - had to instead, inevitably kicking up the dust that had settled since the mafia had been defeated.

Tommy listened to you without interruption, his blues drifting while he weighed the details of your - Bonnie’s - proposition. When you were done silence fell, Tommy’s mind elsewhere, no doubt calculating how his plans would benefit from the needs of others, eyes distant and glazed as they traced where the ceiling met the wall.

“A trade this time ‘round, not a bet?” he said suddenly, his attention now on you and demanding yours in return, “Could’ve just answered the door when I came knocking, love. Would’ve spared you the trip.”

Blood spread beneath your cheeks, the sting that accompanied Tommy’s words coming as a surprise to you and spurring you to bite back.

“I’m not trading anything,” you snarled, “I’m here for my brother and nothing else, so will you help him or not?”

“Bonnie can have what he wants, love.

Unable to stop your jaw from going slack, you stared at Tommy’s passive face.

“Wh-what?” you stuttered, mouth open in shock and voice growing high with mild alarm, your plan taking an unexpected turn for the second time tonight, “Just like that?”

Tommy cleared his throat, inhaling smoke and running it through his nose before breathing it out, “Just like that. Your brother is good, from what I hear,” Tommy shrugged, “and besides, representing him is advantageous to my next business venture. Anything else?”

Feeling as if your safety net had been taken from you, you tried to sound content, bridging the silence before it grew too wide, “No. I suppose not.”

“Good,” Tommy said, leaning onto his elbows and intertwining his hands before him, squinting at you, “Now that business is done, perhaps you can tell me why you came.”

“I already have,” you answered too-quickly, and in your panic you showed your hand, “And helping Bonnie is the least you can do-”

“As I said, Bonnie can have what he wants,” Tommy declared smoothly, his cigarette crackling against his sharp inhale. Smoke chased the words from between his lips while he crushed the embers out in the crystal ashtray before him. “And what is owed will be seen to, so don’t make this about dues, love.

‘Then our business is done.”

“It is, is it? All of it?”

“Bonnie asked for my help,” you said evenly, ignoring Tommy’s very justified questions, “and asked me to come here, which is why I did.”

Tommy paused, and as his voice dropped into a dangerous gravel you noticed the anger that had laced itself into him, spine stiffening where he sat and jaw clenched around his words, “Was this your choice? Or were you sent here?”

Although it was far within the realm of reason, you still couldn’t help but laugh at the prospect, giggles stopping when Tommy eyes flashed with impatience.

“No, Thomas,” you replied, “I didn’t have to come here. No one knows I’m here but Bonnie.”

One could have argued that it was a laugh that left Tommy, but it wasn’t much more than a sharp exhale through his lightly freckled nose, “Then a letter would have done the trick, don’t you think?” he squinted at you sardonically and you had to bite your tongue, “But then again, I’ve noticed you’re not one for correspondence.”

“Why did you come here tonight, Y/N?” Tommy said after a moment of watching you struggle in your own silence, and the annoyance crinkling his face took you by surprise, “Won’t answer your door but you’ll storm through mine, eh? Want to come and go on your own terms? Pride, is that it?”

“Fucking stop it,” you spat suddenly, your fire licking at the fuel Tommy fed it, “what if it is my pride, Thomas? What do you care for my pride? I was auctioned off like livestock and you gladly jumped at the chance.”

“You aren’t a fucking thing,” Tommy hissed, slamming his hands against his desk and standing “I would have come for you -”

“But you didn’t until I was offered to you” you yelled, dropping to an angry whisper when jazz and laughter tinkled in distantly to remind you and Tommy that you weren’t alone, but he didn’t so much as blink as he stared at you, his jaw tight, “You’re the one that took the bet, Tommy, and you didn’t have to.”

“Did you read my letters?” Tommy asked, brows raised and rounding his desk, throwing his whiskey glass down on a gilded end table, crossing the room and slowing as he grew closer to you, “what did they say, yeah? What did they say?”

You broke away from Tommy’s gaze and shifted your weight, knowing full-well you’d kept the letters sealed, as tight and safe as Pandora’s box, never to be opened if you knew what was good for you, or so you’d told yourself.

Sated into a stalemate, your chest rose and fell and you dragged your eyes back to Tommy’s expectant face, “No, I didn’t read them, alright? I didn’t want to know what they said.”

Tommy sighed as if to say something before three soft knocks fell on his office door, Frances’ muffled voice following after them.

“Mr. Shelby, your guests are leaving,” she announced, voice watery through the door, “what should I tell them?”

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, clearing his throat. “Have John & Arthur say my goodbyes Frances, thank you.”

Without question Frances left, making sure her steps were heard this time.

“I should go too,” you muttered, avoiding Tommy’s eyes and turning away, “I’m sorry.”

Tommy stopped you before you got far, seizing your arms and dragging you in front of him, “No.”

“No?” you snorted, ignoring the burning strength of Tommy’s hands on your arms, “Tommy-”

“Wait, just - stay,” Tommy said, laying his hand on your cheek. You settled somewhere between glaring and fluttering but held your breaths steady, the brush of his fingers against your skin feeling like the one drink that could satisfy your thirst, but you managed to put out an even stare. “Just - don’t want you going back in the dark.”

Flicking your gaze across Tommy’s sculpted face, you weighed reality against the desire that had only been building since you laid eyes on Tommy again, and he watched you do so.

“That’s why you want me to stay?”

“You think I’d hurt you?” Tommy asked after a moment, thumb running down your cheekbone to your lips, eyes serious, “Answer me.”

“I don’t know,” you said, a shiver tearing through you from Tommy’s touch, leaning towards him even with the weight of your uncertainty, “I don’t know, Tommy.”

“I meant what I said when I saw you last,” Tommy murmured, stepping closer, lips a breath from yours and sweet with whiskey. You didn’t stop him from coming closer, any sense you thought you’d had about staying away from Tommy dissolving to nothing, his arms snaking around your waist the only thing that made sense to you now.

Breath caught and mind fuzzy, you let your lips brush against his, senseless and unfocused, “But you didn’t come back.”

“I did come back.”

“A midnight visit doesn’t count, Tommy,” you breathed, curling your hands around his biceps, feeling the taut muscles give beneath his shirt.

“It would have if you’d answered the door,” Tommy said, ducking to your neck and dragging his lips up your skin until they met yours, “And I’ve been busy.”

You sighed into Tommy’s mouth and let his tongue slide over yours, his kiss as demanding and heavenly as you remembered, more need laced into you both as your lips reunited, your arms sliding over the breadth of Tommy’s shoulders and around his neck.

Tommy soon had your back pressed against the bookcase, kissing you all the while, gripping your curves and tracing your arcs, drinking in every breath you let slip for the brief moments your lips parted.

“Stay,” Tommy said against your mouth, broad hand cupping the back of your neck.

“And then what?”

“You know what, princess,” Tommy said, his husky Brummie curling around the word like smoke while your toes did curling of their own, your whole body arching at the sound.

You only ran your tongue across his full lower lip in answer, your body driven on by lust while your brain still ran behind, “And in the morning? What then, Tommy?”

“You’ll be next to me, little shon, little moon, and for any other mornings you’d like” Tommy murmured, picking you up and setting you on the bookshelf, kissing your lips as they spread into a smile, face mockingly serious, “Would’ve known that if you’d read my letters.”

Not wanting a response, Tommy pressed his mouth to yours and let his hands roam up and down your sides, gripping your waist and pulling at your clothes, your leg instinctively hooking around his waist and drawing his hips closer.

Regardless of what your body cried out for, your will bit at the fires that Tommy lit beneath your skin, and much like the last time Tommy had taken you into his arms a part of you rose up against him. Fighting the way he cradled you to him possessively, you pushed back at Tommy’s chest, finding your way beneath his shirt and letting your nails scratch his skin, smirking at the hiss he let out before he brought his mouth to yours more ferociously than before. You sunk your teeth into Tommy’s lip in answer to the kisses he pulled from you, taking and demanding, and you wriggled away from his hands as they commanded your curves into his grip.

“There she is,” Tommy chuckled darkly, drinking in your growls of frustration and breathing some of his own into your mouth as you pushed at each other, slapping hands away from buttons and biting marks into skin.

History doomed to repeat itself in more ways than one, your fight against Tommy faded more swiftly than the last time his hands had been on your skin. He’d succeeded in undoing your buttons, ripping the last two and pushing your blouse from your shoulders, throwing it to the floor, and you felt your body start to sing its submission, your eyes fluttering shut. But your will had grown thick since you’d last been in Tommy’s arms, from nights spent lying to yourself, you supposed, and your reminder for him wasn’t something you would negotiate “You don’t own me, Tommy, don’t forget that.”

“No one will ever own you love, we both know that,” Tommy whispered, his lips bringing a hardened nipple into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue. He paid no mind to your wriggling hips, dragging your skirts up to your waist, lips coming back to the skin beneath your ear when he’d finished with your breasts, taunting you with kisses and whispers, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t get to take my fill of you.”

“Was that in your letters, too?” you breathed shakily, your question broken apart by your own uneven breaths.

“Suppose you’ll just have to read them,” Tommy whispered huskily, his hand now very occupied between your legs, playing with the insides of your thighs, tracing the slit of you with a single roughened knuckle.

“Tommy, someone will hear,” you tried, the distant sounds of his party coming back to you, the world outside of this room one you had briefly forgotten. Fighting against his teasing, a sigh broke into a whine and you implored Tommy again.

Tommy ignored you, pulling your lingerie to the side and pressing the pad of his finger against your clit, tutting you with clicks of his tongue and cooing the sounds of your whimpers back to you, “Then I suppose I’ll have to find ways to keep you quiet.”

Soon enough your breaths were coming heavy in your chest, wanton and greedy, Tommy’s rough finger on your clit knitting your brows and bringing a whine to the back of your throat, your legs dangling helplessly from the wooden ledge you sat on. Tommy’s arctic gaze watched you carefully, half-lidded and glazed with hunger, squinting slightly when your body tightened beneath his grip, your orgasm being coaxed to the edge already.

Tommy tilted his head and watched your face ripple with anger as he took his hand from your clit, sliding his fingers into your mouth instead. “I don’t think so, princess. Not until I say, remember?”

The sounds of your forcibly quiet moans were hollow and sinful around the fingers Tommy moved in and out of your mouth, even more so when he pushed them down your throat. But he wasn’t watching you struggle, his eyes busy tracing the curves of your breasts and taking their time drinking in your bare stomach, his usual knowing gaze of calculation sharpened with deviltry as he drew up the map of his plans for you.

“Come here, pretty girl,” he growled, keeping his fingers in your mouth while he pulled your body from the shelf upon which you sat, spinning you in his arms. Tommy pushed two fingers inside of you without warning, shushing your gasps, moving in and out of your dripping wetness while sliding the fingers in your mouth over your tongue, going deeper and deeper until you were gagging and sputtering, your pussy only growing tighter around him in response.

“Still a dirty little thing, aren’t you?” Tommy hummed, the fingers he had inside of you and your mouth moving in and out in an even, thick, rhythm, “Is this what kept you from answering the door? Knowing just how wet you get for me?”

Bracing your arms against the bookshelf, you dug your nails into the wood, hollowing your cheeks around Tommy’s fingers with brows knit in begging. Tommy smirked at the sight of your face, turned up to him and pleading silently, back where both of you wanted to be. Pressing a kiss to your temple and using the fingers he had curling in your dripping pussy to pull you up onto your toes, your back arching forward and urging his fingers deeper. You panted around his fingers, the taste of Tommy’s skin and the waves of pleasure he was dosing you with rippling across your bare skin of in salacious chills.

“Good girl,” he murmured with lips against your hair, watching you struggle to keep your orgasm at bay, the task running dew drops of sweat down your back and between your breasts. Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he brought your lips to his and kissed you softly before pulling down your skirts, ordering you to step out of them and kicking them away from your feet. Rocking you back and forth in his arms and roaming his eyes over your naked skin, pleased to see it again, Tommy brushed your cheek with his thumb and planted a soft kiss to your lips, “Now stay quiet for me, alright? No one gets to hear you but me, princess.”

Without further explanation Tommy left your side, the rough calluses of his hands scraping the smooth skin of your hips as he took them in his hands. You ran your tongue over your lips and sighed, the golden-lettered titles of the books before your eyes unfocused and hazy, your mind blissfully clear, waiting for Tommy and worrying for nothing.

But your haze shattered to pieces when it was Tommy’s mouth you felt between your legs, his tongue flicking out to graze against your clit, tracing down the rest of you before stroking upwards only to repeat its depraved path. Unable to keep your moan behind your teeth, you weren’t surprised when Tommy’s hand curled painfully into your ass, forgoing the noisy crack of a spank for his guests’ sake.

Tommy didn’t punish you any further, merely shushing you quietly, the air of his chiding blowing against your pussy and catching your breath in your chest. Sinking your teeth into your lip, you remembered the twenty other people you were sharing Tommy’s house with that had yet to leave, their chatter and laughter drifting in, a soundtrack that told a very different story than the one being told in this room, the corrupted sounds that Tommy’s lips were making against your wetness not suitable for anyone else’s company.

Even as you roiled shamelessly in his grasp Tommy didn’t let his tongue drift off its skillful course, pushing in and out of you, drawing light circles around your clit. Only stopping to praise the little noises you made or to stop you from coming, he drank up your wetness like the finest wine, edging you over and over, his groans and sighs sending electricity up your spine each time they vibrated against you.

By the time Tommy had finished with you your legs were shaking and your lips were bruised from your own teeth. Tommy placed one last kiss to your clit before he stood, lifting you from where you’d come to lay your head on the ledge of the bookshelf, smoothing your hair and kissing you deeply, letting you taste yourself.

“Tommy,” you murmured, drinking in both his taste and yours, whiskey lacing them together, “Please.”

“What is it, my pretty shon?” Tommy murmured, running his hands gently through your hair, looking at you with sympathy you knew was a lie. “Tell me.”

“Take me to bed,” you begged, “please.”

Tommy smiled as much as man like him could smile, kissing you deeply. Slowly wrapping his hand around your wrist, he brought it to where his cock had grown hard as marble beneath his pants, your breath wisping into his mouth at the feeling of his length as he rubbed you up and down him.

“What do you think my guests will notice first,” he whispered, “your lovely naked skin, or this?” he pressed your hand against his cock with more fervor and bit into your neck, letting go of your wrist when you began to stroke him on your own, the expensive wool of his pants like silk over the harness beneath.

“I think my bare ass would draw more attention, Tommy,” you laughed breathlessly, smile dropping to an open mouthed whine when Tommy pressed his hips against you, forcing the front of you against the bookcase.

“It is a very distracting sight, princess,” Tommy said, removing your hand so he could free his length from his pants, sliding his fingers into your mouth once more while he stroked himself harder, rubbing the head of him and up and down your wetness, “and I think I’ll keep it to myself.”

The steel of his cock against you lit you on fire for good, and you weren’t able to keep in the filth or the volume of your swear when Tommy teased you, barely pushing himself into you before pulling back out again.

“Hush now, you don’t want everyone to hear you do you?” Tommy rasped in your ear, sliding his fingers out of your mouth and spreading his hand over your lips, clamping down tightly, “Or do you want to let them know just how much you missed me?”

Tommy cared not for your muffled responses, kissing the apple of your cheek where it had spilled above the grip of his hand while he pushed his cock inside of you, still holding your mouth tight when he laid his forehead between your shoulders, sighing, pressing his lips to your skin.

“Because I’ve missed you, my little moon, and no one gets to hear you but me.”

Tommy eased in and out of you with a torturous pace, your eyes rolling at the sound of your wetness and the feeling of Tommy taking his time in stretching you wide. The attempts you’d made at recreating Tommy’s touch when you had laid in bed without him were laughable compared to him being inside of you now, his muscled arms holding you tight against his chest with his scent in your nose, the veins below his rolled up sleeves pushing against his skin. The size of him drove tiny noises from between your lips as Tommy began to fuck you in earnest, the sounds dying against the palm he’d tightly clasped over your mouth.

Without care for his guests on the other side of the wall Tommy fucked you hard, and even with your moans stifled beneath his hand any ear pressed to the door could have known what was going on on the other side. Tommy never tired, towering over you and kissing the top of your head, fucking you hard and murmuring filth to you, beckoning you to the edge before slowing and leaving you there, mocking your whines.

When you began to shake on your toes and sweat dewed both your skins Tommy took his hand from your mouth, hushing you in warning as he did so. You looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, whispering, “Please, Tommy, don’t stop, please.”

“Dirty thing,” he said, staying inside of you unmoving while he reached around to rub your clit, watching you bite your lip with hungry eyes. “You’ll come on my cock tonight princess, don’t worry. But not yet.”

Tommy kissed you and left you where you stood, the hand that squeezed your cheeks the last of his touch to leave you as he strode away and settled into one of the chairs opposite his desk, picking up his whiskey from where he’d left it, watching you.

Automatically you started towards him, needing him back inside of you again, needing to feel his skin beneath your fingertips and his lips against yours.

“No no,” Tommy said, a noise of approval rolling from his chest when you instantly stopped at his words. He made you wait once more, not taking his searing eyes off of you as he sipped on what was left of the whiskey he’d put down what felt like centuries ago, “What do good girls do? And I wouldn’t say come, if I were you.”

Not that you would have dared. After a moment of thought you answered him quietly, “Do what they’re told?”

“That they do, princess, but I think you’ve become very good at that. Try again. What do good girls do when they want something?”

Although it wasn’t the first time, you felt laid bare under Tommy’s scrutinous gaze, and you gripped your upper arm, holding it to your chest as you placed your toes on top of your foot, twisting around as you thought.

“I’m waiting, little shon.”

You whined, twisting as Tommy smirked at you, coming to a halt at the thought of your second guess, your voice quiet.

“Beg?”

Tommy squinted at you with a tilted nod, “Very good. And what do beggars do?”

Releasing your arm and uncrossing your feet, you sunk to your knees slowly, sighing as you settled on the carpet, your toes curled beneath you. Tommy watched you half-lidded and expectantly, his tongue running between his lips before he nodded to you, knowing he didn’t need to say what he wanted.

Slowly easing onto your palms, you dug your nails into the carpet before you began to crawl to him, the pleased edge of Tommy’s possessive gaze arching your back and calling you forward. The quiet whisper of the carpet beneath the skin of your knees was the only sound as you slid your naked body towards him, eyes fixed on his, doll-like beneath your lashes. Tommy just watched you, his wrist slowly turning the last sip of amber liquid round and round in his tumbler as you grew closer to where he sat.

“That’s my clever girl,” Tommy murmured softly, letting you lay your head on the firm muscles of his thigh when you reached him at last, draining his drink and slipping his thumb into your mouth. You eagerly accepted, hollowing your cheeks around it and watching him, waiting.

The house beyond Tommy’s office had grown quiet, only the sounds of the ticking clock and the your lips kissing the tip of Tommy’s thumb marking the air, no laughter, no clinking glasses. You were glad for it, both for your sore cheeks and for the sheer desire to have Tommy all to yourself.

With one hand on your cheek and one hand on his cock Tommy stroked them both, watching you where you rest your head against him. You held your eyes fiercely to his, opening your mouth slowly and running your hands up his thighs, daring him to stop you. Expression steadily both wanting and reverent, you knew he wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing, watching you as you wrapped your lips around him, unwavering as you slid his length into your mouth. Tommy held your face and stroked your hair from your forehead, humming at the sight of you taking his cock into your mouth over and over, running your lips up and down the sides of him, your eyes never leaving his.

Swearing sharply when you swirled your tongue around him, Tommy moved his hand to the back of your head, snaking it into your hair. He pushed you down on his cock and pulled you up again, shaking his head slowly when you wrapped your hands around him.

“No hands, princess,” Tommy chided, his voice low and thick, “I think you can find something better to do with them, don’t you?”

With a grateful and needy hum of assent you slipped a hand between your legs, moaning around the hardness of Tommy’s size, the sound dying out as Tommy lowered your mouth onto him. Paying no mind to your wriggling and widened eyes, Tommy groaned and pushed his cock to the back of your throat, lips parting at the sight of you.

Dragging you upwards by your hair only to bring you down on his cock again, Tommy used your mouth and filled your throat, holding you there until your entire body rippled in protest, fighting for air. He released you and let you gulp air into your lungs, watching you blink away the tears from your retching. Not daring to close your mouth, you let your spit drip from your lips onto the carpet below, and Tommy smirked at the sight.

“So good for me,” Tommy whispered, leaning forward to kiss your swollen lips before pulling back to watch your hand where it played with your clit, your hips rolling into your own touch, “Mm, look at you. Aren’t we pretty?”

You just fluttered your eyes at him in response while you touched yourself, your mouth still open in wait.

“Don’t make yourself feel too good, dirty girl,” he warned, pulling your mouth back into him, “or I won’t be happy.”

Tommy didn’t wait for you to agree, fucking your throat in earnest, holding your head tightly and moving you how he wanted, breaths growing heavy as he drove deeper and deeper with each push. Every muscle in your body was taut with effort, the pleasure coiled inside of you drawing tighter and burning hotter as you teased yourself.

Playing between your legs was a dangerous game, and Tommy watched you with dark eyes, still managing to keep tabs on you even with his cock buried in your throat.

“No more,” he said in a rasp, and when you whined around him he pushed in deeper, cutting off your air and making you retch around him. “Now.”

Cooing to you when you took your hands from yourself, sliding them up his thighs, Tommy ran a thumb along your cheekbone in praise, but release you he did not, holding you there with your lips nearly to the base of his length. Whimpers silenced to nothing, you could barely think let alone breathe, your clit pulsing, desperate. Tommy just watched you wriggle with glazed eyes, his hands tightening in your hair and around your neck, pulling himself from you enough to let you breathe before resuming his ravaging, moving your head on and off his cock with a speeding rhythm, murmuring filth to you and wiping your mascara-darkened tears with his thumb when they rolled down to your jaw.

Slipping down your throat once more and holding you still, Tommy watched you blink at him in silent pleading. Tommy chuckled and pulled your mouth from him, letting you gulp down a breath before leaning forward to kiss you deeply, massaging your scalp where he had pulled at your hair.

“C’mere,” Tommy growled, scooping you from the ground and into his lap, your legs straddling his. Wrapping his arms around you, Tommy rocked you onto his cock, drinking in your tiny gasp and breathing your name into your mouth.

You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him, moaning into his mouth as Tommy moved you up and down in his lap, cock arching into you, his graceful face crumpling as he watched himself disappear into you over and over, pressing kisses to your chest up to your lips and back again, his breathing falling in time with yours.

Rolling your hips against Tommy’s to meet his thrusts, you certainly hoped Tommy’s guests were gone, because neither of you were doing anything about the moans of lust and Tommy’s name falling from your lips. You held Tommy’s face to yours and began to tighten around him, and this time your orgasm would not be denied.

Tommy felt you tensing around him and just nodded, swearing at the waves of tightness that clenched around him as your pleasure broke you into pieces, electricity tearing across your skin. With swift rolls of his hips and a rippling muscles wrapped around you Tommy came as you did, the feeling of him filling you up loosing his name from your lips, your hands knotting in the silk of the dark locks on the top of his head.

Tommy slowed his rocking while you came down together, breaths shaking with hands trailing up and down your spine, his head buried in the crook of your neck. Muscles gone slack from the pleasure that had torn through them, you collapsed against Tommy, humming in contentment while he pressed kisses along your collarbones, staying inside of you.

“I missed you,” you whispered as if it was a secret, meeting Tommy’s eyes when they looked up to yours.

“I know,” Tommy winked at you, nearly smiling when you smacked his chest. “I missed you too.”

Pressing your lips to his, you kissed softly until a shiver tore through you, the sweat cooling on your skin leaving goosebumps behind. Tommy reached for the suit jacket he’d thrown on the other chair before you’d entered, slipping it over your shoulders. You pushed your arms through the sleeves and wrapped the extra length over your hands, shivering once more. You looked for his cigarette case, your craving a different kind of vice for dessert.

Tommy sensed your need and remembered his own, pulling out of you and smirking at your gasp when he did so, kissing you and humming, shifting your hips from his lap to let his cum drip onto the expensive leather of his chair.

“Let’s get you a cigarette my messy girl,” he said against your lips, voice sultry and waking your demons again even though they had barely begun to rest.

“I’m surprised you don’t have one between your lips already,” you teased, fiddling with Tommy’s collar.

“Because that,” Tommy said, standing and holding you close, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist, “is something I’d like to do in a bed.”

“Tommy-” you squeaked, looking over your shoulder towards the door while Tommy tucked himself back into his pants, “what if someone sees us?”

“Sees you, you mean,” Tommy said, walking you both out of his office into the now-silent house, “I’m not the one who’s naked.”

“I have a jacket on, I’ll have you know,” you whispered, expecting his guests to pop out from behind the furniture.

“Looks better on you than it does on me.”

You giggled, growing quiet as Tommy carried you through the dark house, “I hope your guests didn’t want your goodbyes,” you said, peering into the darkened dining room as Tommy started up the carpeted steps.

Tommy shrugged, “Fuck them. And I had a very important situation to deal with.”

“Did I bring trouble to your door tonight?” you teased, “Now you know how it feels.”

“Storming in, sneaking past the maid, being a brat to me in my own house,” Clicking his tongue at you a few times, Tommy didn’t falter a step as he topped the stairs, even as he pressed kisses along your neck, “No manners at all. Such a shame.”

Tightening your legs around his waist, you giggled at his scowl, scraping your teeth against his ear, “I have to tell you something.”

“What is it, my little moon, tell me.”

“The yard,” you said, gripping Tommy’s face, your hand squeezing his cheeks for once, although it only served to sharpen his cheekbones. But you could only see his eyes, more stunning than ever, tired but still bright, an inch from yours. “I want it. And I’m going to steal it.”

He stopped in the middle of the hallway, and only the sounds of a sleeping house filled the silence between you. Tommy raised a brow, something akin to admiration brewing beneath the layers of ice, “Are you now? Stealing from the family, eh?”

“Does your moral code draw its knife at stealing from within the ranks?” you asked sarcastically.

“Depends on the ranks. I approve.”

“It should belong to me,” you said quietly, letting go of Tommy’s cheeks to trace the delicate arches that framed them, “Miro. Mine. For Bonnie and for the horses. And for your uncle, to give him back what was taken. No one else.”

Even if his eyes were soft, he still snorted at your daring, “It was ours for a long time before it was in your sights, little ruv, my little wolf. Do you have a plan?”

“A loose one,” you shrugged, your lips lurching close to Tommy’s as he carried on again towards his bedroom, your turn for mock seriousness, “I thought you could help me plan, Mr. Shelby, was that another thing that I missed those letters of yours?”

“Like I said, you’ll just have to read them,” Tommy said, pressing his lips to yours and knotting his hand in your hair, your grin spreading wide before you kicked his bedroom door shut.


End file.
